Monday, October 04, 2004

Last Friday at around 7am I was walking to the gym. For some reason I didn’t take my normal route, but instead decided to walk via Lamb’s Conduit Street. If I take this route I pass a mini recycling centre – mobile phone batteries, newspaper, printer cartridges, glass, plastic, it’s quite impressive. One of the bins is for used clothing. As I walked past, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a pigeon standing on the bin watching me. Everyone knows how much I loathe pigeons, but something made me look back at this pigeon prince of darkness. The corners of my eyes had deceived me, it wasn’t a pigeon. It was a little plush badger. Imagine my surprise. A talking burning bush wouldn’t have been more amazing to me. I actually stopped dead in my tracks. My heart raced. My palms prickled with sweat. I debated with myself: this little plush badger belongs to someone; it didn’t just apparate for me…but wait, maybe it did appear just for me – who could possibly love it more? He who dares, Rodders, he who dares
The little plush badger accompanied me to the gym – he stood guard in my locker while I sweated with Frankie. The little plush badger made Friday a ‘bring your favourite fetish to work day’ at my desk. The little plush badger now keeps a watchful eye on proceedings and calms visitors to my cube – those anxious and weighed down with care find that stroking my little plush badger is the perfect antidote. The little plush badger is my friend.

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